I want to thank John Williams for
providing his review for use on Totally Kate!

Saturday, April 5, 3pmPromenade Theatre, 76th & BroadwayNew York City

It's rare that I get to see a play more than
once, and even more rare for me to see a production in both its infancy
and in a revamped version. I had this opportunity with Tea At Five, as
I'd seen it over a year ago in Hartford, and this past weekend I caught
the New York version.

Unless you've been tooling around the Delta
Quadrant , you know that Tea At Five is Kate Mulgrew's one-person play
about Katharine Hepburn, in which she plays the actress at the age of 31
and 76 over the course of two acts. Act I shows Hepburn cocooning in her
family's home in Fenwick, CT as she recovers from a long string of movie
flops and connives for the role of Scarlett in Gone With the Wind. She
is defiant, witty, narcissistic, arrogant, and beautiful - and steeped
with a deep, abiding pain which permeates throughout the production. Mulgrew
clearly relishes the experience of being this woman, as she lets loose
(a bit too much, here and there) and completely dominates the stage - and
the theatre. She is dazzling and eminently watchable.

Mulgrew is terrific in Act I, but she's magnificent
in Act II. Here we see Hepburn in the twilight of her able-bodied years,
laid up with a broken ankle from a car accident. As the lights come up,
Mulgrew turns slowly to face the audience, and for the remainder of the
act she is Hepburn. It's not an impersonation as much as it is a possession,
and the effect is eerie and wonderful. We're absolutely convinced that
45 years have passed, and though Hepburn is no less brash and witty, the
pain from her past is no less intense, and perhaps even more so.

The ProductionThe Promenade is a smaller and older theatre
than the Hartford Stage, and the stage is much shallower, which only intensifies
the intimacy of the experience. I was in the fourth row but was so close
to Mulgrew that I could see every nuance of her physical performance.
There's a bit less of a set than there was in Hartford - some of the furniture
is gone, like a desk, and the sofa and chairs are pushed together so closely
that Mulgrew had to watch her step every now and then. This gives her less
room to move, which helped in some ways - I remember one of my problems
with the Hartford version was Mulgrew's tendency to overdo it a bit in
the flamboyant gestures department - but also hemmed her in, in a noteably
distracting way.

The PlayParts of my memory may be faulty here, but
it's my impression that the play has been tightened up considerably, and
for the better. One scene has been excised completely - towards the end
Mulgrew was hit by several spotlights from different directions, and each
time she uttered a famous line from one of Hepburn's films. It didn't work
in Hartford and was my least favorite part of the play, so I was glad to
see it go. My impression was that it had been intended to be an electrifying
and dramatic climax to a play which was both of those things already.

It seems to me that the material concerning
Hepburn's nearly thirty-year romance with Spencer Tracy has been expanded,
and thus gives us more of a glimpse into the reasons why she was so in
love with a guy who, judging by the anecdotes told onstage, could be an
incredibly abusive jerk.

One change I found disappointing: Mulgrew
no longer bounds onto the stage in a one-piece bathing suit (Hepburn has
just returned from a swim at the start of the play). Sue me; it was a high
point for me in the Hartford version!

The PerformanceAs I said above, Mulgrew is eminently watchable
(which is why I could get through just about any Voyager episode). Onstage,
she locks on and draws you in - it's nearly impossible to become distracted
or drift off. However, there are moments where she overdoes it a bit -
too often she flails her hands and arms around in too grand a fashion,
and periodically the aged Hepburn would abruptly unstiffen and become impossibly
graceful for a woman of her age and condition. But the only reason I noticed
little details like that was because I couldn't keep my eyes off her for
an instant.

Captain - I mean, Admiral - Janeway was nowhere
in sight. No, I take that back: Mulgrew brought her onstage for one brief
moment when she did the classic reverse-right hand on hip, left hand on
back of neck maneuver - you know, when the Captain was working on a particularly
nettlesome problem. It made me grin, but then she was gone.

Overall, I think Mulgrew has worked extremely
hard at this role, and one feels a certain small amount of awe in her presence
which has nothing to do with the novelty of seeing a Trek actor onstage.
She seems more than capable of living comfortably as Voyager's captain
and as the carrier of Hepburn's walk-in spirit, and I never got the impression
that she was just another TV actress trying desperately to shed her popcult
image. A small triumph, that.

Personal StuffThe day of the Hartford performance, I attended
a small luncheon sponsored by the local Trek fan club in honor of Mulgrew,
who seemed delighted to be there and clearly enjoys her place among Trek
fandom. It was a small thrill to see her as a 'real person', which only
enhanced the intimacy of the play later that evening. I guess I was spoiled,
because I kept hoping to see her on the street, or at the Cosi coffee shop
next to the theatre. G'wan and laugh, but I couldn't help feeling stood
up! After the play, we went to dinner at the Westide Brewing Co., just
up the block, and the waitress told us Mulgrew had been in the week before.
Curses!

I brought my parents to the play, and while
I think they anticipated enjoying themselves - "Sure, son, sounds like
fun, seeing this Star Trek actress playing Katharine Hepburn" - I think
they were unprepared for the impact Mulgrew's performance had on them.
My mom was sobbing at the end, her own memories of a family tragedy stirred
up by a crucial scene in the play, and both were astounded by Mulgrew's
incarnation of Hepburn. This pleased me no end.

Whether you adore Mulgrew or not, Tea At Five
is well-worth the experience.